Are you untouched by him or have you already turned to him for consolation? Does it matter? I’ve no right to dictate who you may or may not take to your bed and Dev’s presence in my life doesn’t exactly leave me feeling very wholesome.
Itrac surprised the warlord with a tremulous smile. ‘I never thought of that—not Jevin, I mean, but the whole business of the taint of magic’ She shrugged. ‘If just encountering magic contaminates us with its evil, I’ve been touched along with everyone else who survived the savages.’ She shivered despite the warmth. ‘Have you had any news from the triremes to the west? I dream about those wild men out there over the horizon, and all they did to us.’
If a warlord’s prerogative is the reading of omens written in the world around us, it’s women whose dreams link their inner lives to past and future through the unbroken thread of blood.
‘The time has come to make an end of them,’ Kheda said firmly. ‘The portents are clear about that. As soon as we’ve celebrated the alignment of the new year, I’ll summon every swordsman and ship we can call on and cleanse every last isle of the domain. I’ll burn their bolt-holes to black ash and throw their splintered bones into the sea.’
Itrac’s eyes widened at his vehemence. ‘Be careful.’
‘I will be,’ Kheda assured her.
A peremptory knock on the door leading to the garden startled them both and Jevin hastily gathered his wits to hurry over to open it.
Dev stood there, scanning the room with amused curiosity. ‘Are we ready to dine with Rekha Daish in sufficient state to convince her that Chazen is set fair for a successful year?’ The barbarian mage was wearing a plain tunic and trousers of rich brown silk, his paired swords thrust through a wide sash. His coppery skin gleamed with oil and he wore a single earring, a ruby faceted in the fashion of the unbroken lands of his birth.
Not till I’ve seen to your cosmetics, my lady.’ Jevin spoke up apologetically. ‘You’re a bit smudged.’
‘Then there’s a messenger you might like to see, my lord,’ said Dev briskly. ‘If we’ve a bit of time in hand.’
‘I think we can feel free to keep Rekha waiting.’ Kheda kissed Itrac’s mouth firmly now that he didn’t need to be so careful not to mar her face paint. ‘Any lesser wife must expect to serve a first wife’s convenience.’
He followed Dev across the dusky garden and out through the reception hall where everything was nearly ready for the celebratory feast. They skirted servants carefully bringing in tall lamp stands and a slave boy waiting with a pitcher of oil.
‘Green oil, my lord,’ Dev observed with a grin, just to show anyone who might be wondering that Chazen trade-links still reach all the way to the unbroken lands of the barbarous north.’
Kheda glanced around the room. ‘We’re not exactly dressed to match the furnishings, though. That will give Rekha something to gloat over.’
‘Which will doubtless spur Itrac on to make the most profitable trades she can,’ said Dev comfortably, ‘so that she can invite all the neighbouring domain’s women here along with the Daish wives next year, to see hangings, carpets, cushions and everyone’s clothes matched to a shade. Care to make a wager on it?’
‘Was that the first Archipelagan habit you acquired?’ Kheda wondered. ‘Laying bets whenever you get the chance?’
Not that you have any true understanding of testing your perception of the present against the chances of the future. You just seize any opportunity to enrich yourself like the barbarian you were born.
Kheda paused on the outer steps and surveyed the wide expanse of the reef and lagoon. Triremes and galleys had their stern lanterns lit, rocking peaceably at anchor. A woman’s song swelled above the shimmering music of a round harp and laughter rang across the water as the resident islanders welcomed Chazen mariners and Daish newcomers alike to their celebrations. The pungent scents of finger-fish fried in peppery oil and spit-roasted ducks stuffed with herbs made Kheda’s stomach rumble. ‘There’s your messenger, my lord.’ Dev pointed to a drifting lantern and Kheda peered through the half-light to see a small boat picking its cautious way towards the far isle where his pavilion and the observatory stood.
It was a sturdy little vessel of the kind that travelled unremarked between the islands of a domain, with a capacious hold full of useful items. A boat easily handled by two crew and manageable enough for a solitary mariner who knew the ropes of its triangular rigged sail. A boat big enough for someone bold enough to sail across the more open seas to another warlord’s waters and negotiate for the pennants granting safe passage to go and see what was on offer at the beaches where islanders and traders swapped their wares. Kheda felt the first uncalculated smile of the day widen on his face.
Better not run, however much you want to. That would attract attention and someone would jump to a wrong conclusion or start some panic.
He began walking more briskly and, schooling his face into placid affability for the servants and islanders he passed, always kept the little boat in view as it nosed into a modest berth close by the observatory. Leaving the busier pavilions behind, Kheda made his way across the walkways to the far island as rapidly as possible.
Just as eager at his shoulder, Dev was concentrating on watching the little ship easing up to the unforgiving coral. You watch what you’re doing, girlie. That’s still my ship.’
Nice to see you, too, Dev,’ called the female mariner wielding a single weighty oar at the stern. Shipping her sweep, she threw out a heavy anchor that landed on the reef with a crunch. ‘You could come and lend a hand, you idle barbarian.’ She hauled on the rope to make sure all was secure.
Dev spread mock-apologetic hands. ‘My lord would hardly approve of me getting all dirty before such an important evening.’
‘The first thing I want is a decent bath.’ The girl wiped her forehead with the back of one hand before deftly throwing a loop of rope over a mooring post. ‘I’m sick of being all sticky with salt.’
‘Have you brought my Amigal back in one piece?’ Dev laid a proprietorial hand on the rail. ‘You can go aboard and satisfy yourself while Risala tells me her news.’ Kheda held out a hand to the girl. ‘Or at least the most important details. We don’t have long before we have to go and play our parts at Itrac’s dinner table.’
The girl jumped deftly over the little ship’s stern, ragged grey trousers hanging loose on her skinny frame, her overlarge red tunic patterned with faded black canthira leaves. She brushed tousled black hair out of her vivid blue eyes. Where can we talk without some maid bobbing up?’ She cocked her head at Kheda, thin face alert.
‘In there.’ Kheda nodded towards the observatory tower. ‘Dev, stay on deck and keep an eye out. Don’t let anyone interrupt us.’
Naturally, my lord.’ Dev’s face was intent as he climbed aboard the Amigal, keen eyes searching the mast, sail and boom.
No chance of you getting your dinner till he’s satisfied I’ve kept his precious ship safe.’ Risala chuckled as she followed Kheda to the round building at the base of the tower. With only the sun’s afterglow fading fast on the horizon it was dark inside.
‘Wait a moment.’ Kheda felt for the lamp set in a niche in the wall and found the spark-maker beside it. A few snaps and the toothed steel stuck a spark from the glaucous firestone to catch in the tandra-tree fluff. Kheda lit the lamp’s wick and crushed the flame from the tinder with licked fingers.